The Torchwood Institute
by prettytwistedG
Summary: When Captain Jack Harkness is forced to leave an active life in the army, he chooses to take a position at The Torchwood Institute, a centre named for the team he commanded, and the soldiers he lost. He didn't expect action to return to his life, especially not in the form of a Welsh archivist. AU AH
1. Chapter 1

The Cardiff flat was nothing particularly special to Jack Harkness. It was a series of white walls and hardwood floors, a roof and a view of the city. It was an empty space. Hollow. Lifeless.

Jack pushed the door open with his foot and placed the last box of his belongings on the kitchen table. He didn't have much, he never needed it in the army. As long as you had a kit bag and an extra pair of socks you were good to go.

The flat was clean and spacious, just as he had left it five years ago when he left for his first tour in Afghanistan with his new, specialised team. He hadn't come back since, choosing to take longer tours and stay in Barracks when he came back home

But somehow that was no longer an option. Jack paced over to the far wall. He had the penthouse flat where throughout the living space the windows stretched from floor to ceiling, allowing an uninterrupted view over Cardiff Bay. In some ways it was beautiful, but the way the light broke through the panes of glass basked the flat in a cold, grey haze that was paralleled by the welsh sky and sea that seemed to remain constantly overcast.

Jack recalled the day he was told to go home. He understood why his superiors had made the decision, it didn't mean he liked or agreed with it.

_"__Captain Harkness, reporting Sir." Jack spoke clearly and stood to attention in the doorway._

_"__Jack! Yes, come in, come in!" Colonel Daughtry was a pleasant man and a fine soldier, although he hadn't seen action in several years, choosing to stay at the barracks and help train the new recruits. Jack stepped into the office, still at attention._

_"__At ease Jack, at ease." Daughtry smiled from behind his desk, but something about him seemed uneasy. "Oh, and close the door would you." He added softly._

_Jack turned and push the door shut silently, when he returned to face his superior the older man gestured for him to take a seat. Jack did has commanded._

_"__Jack," Daughtry sighed, and relaxed back into his chair, "as you know for the past five years the Torchwood initiative has been both highly successful and useful to us as a nation." Daughtry paused and looked down for a second. "Unfortunately, your team is no longer needed." The look on Jack's face was one of pure shock, his jaw dropping slightly as his eyes opened wide._

_"__Sir?" the American mumbled, his accent coming on stronger than it usually was._

_"__Believe me Jack, I know. I did try to stop this, I know how hard you and your team have worked but it seems that the voices from above feel that your methods, although effective, do not have a current place in the war." The sadness in the older man's voice was apparent, he wasn't any happier about this than Jack was. _

_"__What!" Jack wasn't just shocked now, he was furious. "The Torchwood team has worked harder and more effectively than any other specialist operation, if it wasn't for us-"_

_"__There was also deliberation about your metal state. The events with Lieutenant's Sato and Harper, the IED-"_

_"__I'm perfectly fine Major, I was cleared for duty, I have to do my job!" Jack was frantic now, his voice crackling like static over a Coms unit._

_"__We know Jack, we know. But you almost died. Four times. Believe me, if the men upstairs didn't think you were ok you would've been medically discharged months ago."_

_The bluntness of the major surprised Jack, Daughtry must have seen it on the American's face because his next words were soft, "Maybe this is just the universe telling you your job is done." Daughtry almost whispered, ignoring the fact a soldier below him in rank had just shouted at him. _

_Jack took a deep breath, "So what happens to me now sir?"_

_Daughtry opened a desk drawer and removed several documents. "You have two options." Jack looked up at the Major, trying to read his face. He slid two pieces of paper over the desk to the Captain._

_"__Either, you take an Honourable Discharge and live your life, start afresh. Find a nice girl-" Jack raised an eyebrow, "-or guy. Start a family, so on and so forth" The Major continued, gesturing to one of the papers. _

_"__Or, you take the other option." He said quietly, pointing a finger to the other paper. Jack followed the Major's gaze and skimmed over the title._

_"__The Torchwood Institute?" Jack asked, completely confused. Daughtry's face fell surprisingly blank._

_"__A new centre, based in your native Cardiff. Named for your team." Sadness crept back into Daughtry's voice, "Named for the people you lost."_

_Jack was utterly awestruck._

_"__I'm honoured." Jack paused, picking the right question to follow. "But what has that got to do with me?" The younger soldier inquired slowly._

_"__I'm glad you asked." Major Daughtry leaned forward his chair, looking jack straight in the eye. "They want you to help others." Jack was still thoroughly confused, had Daughtry always been this naively vague?_

_"__You will take a position at the centre and work with the medical staff there to mentally support and prepare men and women, like the ones in your team, to carry on. To live."_

Jack watched another swell of cloud push itself over the sky.

The decision to return to Cardiff and take the Torchwood position had been slightly difficult. He had thought about it for several days before deciding that he wasn't ready to let go of the army just yet. Working at the Institute would allow him to keep the memory of his friends, Tosh and Owen in particular, alive (and the title Captain, which, worryingly, had a very large part to play in his choice).

He knew Gwen Cooper, his friend and comrade, had chosen to return to civilian life, but he didn't blame her. She had a husband who loved her, a possibility of family and a job with the Cardiff Police force already waiting. She had a life to live. Even Captain Jack Harkness couldn't blame her for getting away from it all.

As more clouds rolled in, Jack sighed, waiting for anything to revive him.


	2. Chapter 2

The Torchwood Institute certainly wasn't what Jack expected.

Upon arriving at the address just outside of Cardiff he pulled into a small car park surrounded by tall oak trees. Their leafy branches winding down to the ground leaving only about three metres of empty space for vehicles and people before they were encased in the green canopy.

The sky outside of Cardiff was less cloudy and beams of golden sunlight trickled through the trees, dappling the dark haired American in pools of warm light.

Jack pulled on his overcoat despite the warm temperature. The coat had been his father's once upon a time, but now the worn fabric and outdated insignias provided comfort in the new location.

Looking over the roofs of the many cars in the clearing, he spotted a paved break in the trees that quickly twisted out of view. Seeing it as the only other exit, Jack tucked his hands in the pockets of his trousers and strode off down the path.

After about two minutes of walking, the sheltered route opened up, revealing an archaic looking building. Stone walls rose for three storeys, dark green ivy clung to the textured surface, edging around glossy windows and decorative carvings in the stone.

Several people walked past windows, ignoring the man dressed in an army trench coat, pale blue shirt and grey trousers that lingered on the doorstep, gazing up at the Institute.

Taking a breath, Jack focussed his attention on the doors. They were glass with chrome fittings and handles. In the centre of each pane a white torchwood logo was glazed onto the surface. The logo the Captain had worn for five years.

Jack put on his signature smirk upon finding the familiar logo, and opened the door.

The office Jack had been supplied was at the back corner of the building on the second floor (which Jack learnt was actually the seventh floor if you counted the underground levels).

It had a window that overlooked a large patio area. A small lake lay in the distance, glinting in the sun. On the patio physiotherapists were putting injured men and women through the paces, on the grassy expanse beyond people in scrubs and suits walked with people in casual clothing, deep in conversations jack wouldn't yet understand.

Compared to the outside of the building, the interior was a complete U-turn. Everything was in varying shades of monochrome; white walls, black marble floors, all fitted with either glass or simple chrome.

The Captain's office was no different. The walls and floor were both white. On the left side of the room, there was a black leather couch with matching chair and a black glass coffee table. A fake potted plant stood in the corner by the door. On the right the walls were entirely glass. There was a simple desk and office chair, a computer and a filing cabinet. Nothing special.

From what Jack had been told he would have four hour long appointments a day with patients, of which he had eight. His diary for the day was blank so he had a chance to read up on his patients and plan what he wanted to do. He had a meeting at the end of the day with the rest of the team he was working within.

It had taken him three hours to go through his patients. They were a mixture of people, from active soldiers, to scientists, to analysts, each with specific issues from mild PTSD and phobias all the way to those with recurring nightmares and even one with complete amnesia over life before the army meaning they needed to be prepared for the outside world whilst teachers worked with their knowledge.

It was just coming up to one o'clock as Jack leaned back in his office chair to stretch out his legs under the desk. He folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. Jack jumped when his stomach growled fiercely.

With a quiet laugh he got up from behind his desk which was now scattered with various confidential documents he regarded should be locked away in the cabinet. Snapping his braces back into place on his shoulders, Jack opened the door and left the office, choosing to leave his coat on the rack by the door.

Walking back the way he had come that morning, the captain managed to find his way to the canteen. Much like the rest of the building it was a monochrome expanse of clean tables and the scent of sterilised air.

Several doctors in white coats sat in small, scattered groups around the room interspaced by the occasional person in business wear who had obviously escaped to the canteen with their laptops to get out of the offices. Jack only had to have been at the Institute for just over three hours to know they were uncomfortable and lacked even the slightest hint of personal flair, a fact Jack had noticed quickly.

Jack soon noticed that standing in the doorway and staring absentmindedly probably looked a bit odd and headed over to the food counter, dropping a wink at a woman who gapped slightly as Jack strode past.

"Is that all?" the all blond haired man behind the counter asked as jack placed a sandwich on the counter, Jack's blue eyes skimmed the lean figure, _Would I? _he asked himself as the server shuffled slightly on his feet, staring uncomfortably at Jack.

"Black coffee please, extra strong." The brunette responded, dropping his second wink of the day, the blond blushed and busied himself behind the counter, _yes, yes I would, _Jack answered himself mentally, admiring the blonde's behind when he turned to make the coffee.

"Tea please, Harry." Jack's ears pricked up at that. The voice was soft, a strong Welsh accent providing some ludicrously beautiful vowels as he spoke.

He swivelled subtly away from Harry to look upon he man who spoke.

"Coming right up Ianto." Harry replied adding another cup under the coffee machine and pressing few buttons so both began to fill.

Ianto, Jack discovered , looked even better than his voice sounded. The slightly shorter Welshman had black hair and strikingly blue eyes. He was dressed in an impeccable three piece suit and leaning against the countertop, head tilted back in relaxation, he closed his eyes.

"Here you go." Harry broke Jack's silence by placing two cups on the counter, smirking at the brunette. Jack smiled back kindly, his interest in the server dwindling somewhat since Ianto's arrival, and took the two cups.

Ianto was now staring straight at Jack, or more likely his cup of tea in the American's hand, looking quite confused.

"Here you go." Jack offered softly, passing Ianto the cardboard cup as a flirtatious grin pulled at the corner of his lips.

"Uh, thanks." Ianto's reply tumbled out, heavily accented and inquisitive of the American.

Jack took a sip of his coffee, eyes still locked on the shorter man who, Jack was pleased to see, was yet to look away, until the point the brunette face became the picture of disgust. The coffee was disgusting, the taste cloying on Jack's tongue, bitter and burnt.

Ianto laughed softly, "Sorry about that. Probably should've warned you that pretty much any drink served here is, frankly, vile."

The American raised an eyebrow questionably, "If that's the case, why are you here?" laughing gently as he took another sip and regretted it instantly, "Because this really is god-awful."

Ianto laughed outright at that, bringing Jack out in a gleeful smile.

"My coffee machine is broken, it's this or nothing." Ianto rationalised, taking another mouthful of tea, "I'm Ianto by the way, Ianto Jones." The Welshman offered his free hand.

"Captain Jack Harkness." Jack introduced himself and took Ianto's hand in a firm shake. He noted the shorter man straightened slightly with Jack's words, "Pleased to meet you."

Ianto released jack's hand far too quickly and pulled an old-looking, silver pocket watch from the pocket of his waistcoat before returning it and placing his half-drunk cup of tea in a nearby bin.

"I better be going Sir." Ianto's voice was controlled but tense, _Sir? _Jack questioned, eyeing the younger man suspiciously who was now fidgeting on the spot.

"Of course." Jack responded, the sadness in his voice not-so-thinly veiled as he went to throw his own cup.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you Sir." Ianto stated matter-of-factly, gesturing to the cup when Jack's brow furrowed. He noticed quickly that the cup had the words 'Call Me' scrawled on the side, followed by a phone number, Jack inwardly cringed.

"Uh-" Jack went to respond with some sort of intelligent remark but held his tongue when he looked up to find that the Welshman had already gone.

Jack left the canteen and disposed of the cup as soon a Harry was out of eye line. Somehow he felt that he wasn't going to be calling the sweet blonde anytime soon.

* * *

**A/N: So this is my first janto fic, I hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters, unfortunately, but they are great fun to play with :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Jack's first afternoon occurred without a hitch. He read files and ordered them away. He moved the plastic plant to the other side of the room only to move it back twenty three minutes later. He changed his desktop background, twice.

All in all, it was rather dull.

At 4:25pm, Jack left the confines of his office to make his way to the meeting room on the uppermost floor. He picked his greatcoat from the rack just before the door shut with a muted thud.

With the thick material around his shoulders, Jack felt his body heat rise dramatically. He hadn't been particularly cold or in need of warming up, he just wanted the comfort.

It had been a long time since he'd had to work with new people. Even then, he was in charge and those men and women (who became his friends) treated him with the upmost respect from the off. But now he was part of a team and the coat just allowed him to feel less alone.

Jack rubbed the worn material at his cuff affectionately as he rounded another corner into a stairwell. The greatcoat had been in his Grandfather's in World War Two, and until a few years ago it was his father's. Now it was Jack's, though that wasn't the original plan.

The blue eyed Captain thought back to America. To boarding school. To his brother.

Jack winced at the memory of Grey, the corner of his mouth contorting his face unpleasantly.

Grey. His brother. His twin.

The Captain pushed the thought from his head as he reached the conference room door. He took a deep breath, forcing his eyelids down over watery irises, before pushing the door open.

Inside, nine people turned to face him. None of whom, he was upset to see, was his Welshman.

Most were settled around the long glass table in the centre of the room, swivelling slightly on black leather chairs. Eight of them were dressed similarly to him, male and female variations of slightly casual business wear, all seated around the table, their attentions now focussed onto whatever they had been before Jack and his perfectly messed hair, ocean coloured eyes and slightly cheeky smile had entered the room.

This room had no windows. The floor was wood panelled, as was the wall to the right of Jack. It's hard surface currently supporting the large chrome hands of a quietly ticking clock, and the lean form of a doctor.

The doctor wore the typical white coat. When he shifted slightly, it flapped open so Jack could see the hints of a wide pinstripe suit. His hair was of a similar style and colour to Jack's own, though it was slightly longer in length.

The man had pale skin and was quite thin. Black, thick rimmed glasses adorned his face and bright red Converses covered his feet.

When Jack's gaze landed once again at the doctor's face, their eyes met. There was something familiar in those eyes.

Jack held his stare, not wanting to seem embarrassed, or worse, shy. Any crowd of people believing that for even the smallest amount of time would be an unfortunate occurrence for both parties.

Surprisingly, the doctor held his line of vision, dropping Jack friendly wink and smile before taking his place at the table next to a woman in a purple sweater dress and long ginger hair.

The woman lifted her own eye line to Jack when the doctor took his seat. Smiling widely, she opened her mouth to speak. The American leaned forward onto the balls of his feet, pushing his hands into the pockets of his trousers and smiled almost wolfishly at the red head, waiting for her inevitable invitation for him to take the seat on her other side.

But it never came. Instead-

"Don't." The doctor almost commanded to his companion, realising what she was about to do.

The look the doctor received from the Captain not-so-subtly whispered 'What the fuck?' as Jack took the seat next to the red head anyway.

"Hi, I'm Donna." The bubbly woman announced clearly, beaming from ear to ear. Her accent was one of London, slightly aggressive. Jack didn't want to disappoint.

"Well. Hello Donna." Jack softly crooned. An exasperated sigh slipped from the doctors lips.

"Captain Jack Harkness." The American offered his hand, Donna hastily took it in her own. Jack twisted her wrist slightly and brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed the skin softly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." The Captain added with a smirk, letting go of her hand.

"For Christ's sake." The Doctor looked less than impressed, as if this was an occurrence he had gotten somewhat used to.

Jack liked him already.

* * *

At precisely 5:00pm, the meeting ended.

Donna uttered a sweet goodbye and headed in the opposite direction, her scarlet curtain of hair swaying over her shoulders. She wasn't exactly Jack's type, but she was fun, a perfect opposite to her doctor companion.

The doctor's office was just down the corridor from Jack's so the pair decided to walk together making animated small talk that neither man seemed even remotely interested in. Until-

"You don't remember me, do you?" The doctor asked calmly, eyes still fixed on the floor.

"Um." Jack wasn't usually this inarticulate, he scrambled mentally through every face he could remember: training staff, hospital workers, soldiers, one night stands…

"Dear lord not _that _way." The doctor said, obviously interpreting the look plastered over Jack's face. "It's perfectly reasonable for you to not recognise me, I looked a lot different when we first met."

The two men had now stopped at the side of a corridor. The doctor was now staring straight at Jack, hands tucked in his suit pockets. As he spoke, his head swivelled around slightly, as if he was looking for someone.

Jack said nothing.

"Operation Game Station." The Captain's blue eyes widened at that. Operation Game Station was his last mission before Torchwood, when he had been working with Agent Tyler and-

"Doctor-"

"The very same." The Doctor replied, smiling at his old friend.

"What happened to you? I almost died on that mission, ended up in a coma." The American paused. "When I woke up, you had already gone, something about Bad…Bad" Jack looked down, trying to remember anything that was relevant.

"Yeah, well, let's not talk about that." His friend replied, rocking slightly in his Converse's. His discomfort apparent.

Jack's smirk returned.

"I know time has made me even more attractive," Jack began to joke, "But I somehow doubt aging has anything to do with _this_." The American teased, gesturing flippantly to his friend's face.

"Oi! Watch it!" the Doctor warned, his smile somewhere between annoyance and childish glee.

"So what actually happened? You never seemed like the Barbie type?" Jack teased further, he'd missed this; riling up his friends for the sheer joy of the looks on their faces.

"Oh, the usual." The Doctor was back to his normal, rocking, slightly unfocused self. "Mission gone wrong, exposed identity, appearance regeneration. Nothing out of the ordinary."

Jack nodded, understanding fully. "And Agent Tyler?" he asked cheekily, remembering the spunky blonde.

The doctors face dropped. His reply came after a sigh.

"Officially, dead." Deep breath. "Unofficially, witness protection."

Pause.

"Well that sucks. I liked her." Came Jack's response after a moment of deliberation as to what to say.

"So did I." the Doctor's words were sombre and longing. The man stood before the American had changed in more ways than appearance since Jack had last seen him. And Jack really didn't want to think as to why.

"So, we should get a drink sometime." The Captain decided to break the silence gently, but it did no good, his doctor had already gone.

Jack paced his way back to his office and locked the door before walking in the other direction to leave.

The Doctor had a habit of doing that, Jack recollected, remembering the other times his Doctor had left without so much as a goodbye, let alone directions on how to find him. He was used to it though, it had become a recurring theme amongst the people in his life.

* * *

When Jack reached his car, the dappling light was yet to begin to dim, it fell around the car park like golden leaves in the ever encroaching autumn. Leaves that would eventually dry up into brown husks and disintegrate under the brunettes boots.

Though the canopy, Jack could see specks of blue. It was too light though. It was not the blue he wanted. The blue he desired was deep and mysterious. It smelt like bad coffee and spoke with a resounding welsh accent.

Jack sighed mournfully.

That blue had laughed but called him Sir. That blue all too easily walked away.

With a final sigh, Jack opened the door to the vehicle and waited for the heat to seep out into the air. He stripped himself of his coat and tossed it aimlessly into the passenger seat before taking his place behind the wheel.

Keys. Clutch. Ignition.

The car lurched forward, straight into the path of a three piece suit with a crop of black hair and the blue eyes Jack longed for.

* * *

**Sorry this took so long to update, I meant to pot something on Wednesday before I went on holiday but I ran out of time.**

**Ok, so this is mostly filler, I just wanted to get the doctor and Donna in so everything was set up ready for...**

**So now I need you to tell me some things, can you answer the questions below either by review or PM so I know what direction you'd like this story to go in:**

**1\. Plot or just relationship stuff?**

**2\. Any characters in particular you would like to see?**

**3\. Are you happy with me writing from Ianto's point of view at some point?**

**I'm not sure about the consistency of updates as I'm on holiday at the moment and I'll be going back to school soon. I'll try to keep them weekly and let you know otherwise.**

**Hope you enjoyed this, as always Follow and Favourite!**

**Reviews provide a lot of inspiration for me so please, review!**

**prettytwistedG**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood, Doctor Who or any of its characters, though this is my AU and plot. If I owned Torchwood a lot of things would've happened differently...a lot.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Ianto POV**

The glossy black car jolted out suddenly and to Ianto's annoyance, grazed the tips of the Welshman's well shined shoes. He could feel a swift flush of anger crack in his chest as he turned in the direction of the ignorant bastard behind the wheel; a string of profanity ridden exclamations tingling on his lips. Until he met the driver's eye. The tingling moved swiftly to the pit of his stomach where it lingered, tugging at the lining of his core.

The Captain smiled.

Ianto had spent the entirety of his afternoon avoiding the blue-eyed American; drinking only bottled water in his office to avoid the canteen, getting his numerous members of staff to bring all necessary documents to him so he would have to venture out into the corridors, waiting almost twenty minutes to leave the building when his work was done so there was no chance of bumping into Captain Jack Harkness in the car park.

_Fat lot of good that did. _Ianto thought, taking a breath when he realised Jack was getting out of his car, closing the door, standing before him, talking-

"I'm sorry, Ianto." The Captain was no longer smiling, his face was serious, worry playing behind his ocean coloured irises, "I didn't see you there. But I'm glad I did. I doubt running over someone as pretty as you on my first day would be that beneficial to my career." A slight smirk had returned to the older man's lips, but it played no change in his eyes, Ianto realised with a start. Captain Jack Harkness, all bravado, blue eyes and blatant flirting, was embarrassed…and nervous.

"No, it's my fault Sir." Ianto began, clinging on to any remaining degree of professionalism and self-respect he had left. "I should have been looking where I was going, my apologies, Sir."

Ianto could see his words scar Jack's face with disappointment. He opened his mouth as if to say something, his lips hanging slightly agape, but they quickly shut, omitting anything he wanted to say. All the things he would say if his situation allowed it.

"Why do you do that?" The American asked, his voice was curious.

"Do what Sir?" Ianto swiftly replied, acutely aware of the multiple lines he had been ordered to draw that Jack was now pushing himself over.

"That." Came the soldier's response. "Call me Sir. No one here calls me Sir." Jack tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers and leant back on the front of his car, "No one, except you."

The Captain's eyes were firm but inquisitive as they locked onto Ianto's own. He could see what the girls in the office had been talking about. Jack had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows exposing unblemished golden skin. His hair was styled in that undetectable way all men strived to recreate, flecks of gold and auburn painted through the strands by the sun. His clothes were fashionably slim cut, pulled taught around the muscled skin of his chest, upper arms and thighs. His face was chiselled, high cheek bones with a strong nose and jaw. Captain Jack Harkness was beautiful, in that highly detectable way that no man could ever recreate.

"Um." Came Ianto's stuttered response, _Shit! _He noted mentally.

"Come on. Why?" Jack asked again. Ianto shuffled on the spot slightly, adjusting the way his bag hung against his hip.

"There must be a reason. You were fine before you knew my name." The Captain was standing now, only inches away from the shorter man. "More than fine even." He raised his eyebrow, "You were glorious."

Ianto cried out internally, searching for any scrap of information on how he was supposed to react in this situation. The rules had been simple; be friendly (but not flirty), treat him as his rank and position would command (remember why he is here), don't give him any reason to suspect you.

_Well, fuck._

Breath. Blink. Move. Act natural. Ianto held Jack's gaze, increasingly worried about the length of the pause. Until-

What would Lisa do?

"I'm sorry if I have caused offence Sir. Upon meeting you I spoke out of turn. I simply wish to address you as my lower rank permits." He wasn't lying, mostly. It was true he had spoken out of turn, God forbid the Director ever found out. But he wasn't a lower rank. And he certainly didn't wish to call him 'Sir'.

Ianto loosed a breath he had forgotten to stop holding and waited for Jack's response. The Captain seemed lost, almost disappointed. He had dropped his head forward slightly so shadows fell sullen across his face. The playful smile was gone, replaced with a clean cut and practiced line that hid his teeth but feigned happiness. His voice was calm and plain, the bravado stripped away from his tongue.

"Well, okay then." He paused to walk back over to his car and open the door, "I'm sorry for almost hitting you, I assure you it was my own fault." The American climbed into his car and shut the door softly.

Guilt wracked Ianto. This wasn't fair. This man didn't deserve what was coming to him. He didn't deserve any of this.

What would Lisa do?

Ianto remembered his old girlfriend numbly, not wishing to reawaken anything he had long since buried.

Lisa. His Lisa. She had been a soldier, one of Jack's soldiers. She had loved him, Ianto had heard much of her Captain's old fashioned honour and pride. Captain Jack Harkness. Their protector, a friend, a brother. A man. They had stripped that all away from him. Piece by piece, taking him apart, but he had never fallen.

It struck Ianto that Captain Jack Harkness wasn't a man who gave up. He was strong. He could be blown apart and his body would find some way to rebuild itself.

The Welshman strongly suspected that the people who built this circus of a plan had tried and failed to get rid of him the old-fashioned way. He had heard the stories. Read the files. 'Captain Jack Harkness, the immortal soldier.'

Of course, that wasn't true. He was as human as Ianto was. More so probably.

For that reason, Ianto made a promise. For Lisa, for him, for his Captain.

_I will save you. _

**A/N:**

**So...you wanted a plot, I have one.**

**These first few chapters are obviously more set-up than anything. I have a plot idea I just need to flesh it out so it's worth reading and waiting for.**

**THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to those of you who have followed favourite and reviewed, it means so much. I also apologise for the longer wait for this chapter (which isn't that great in my opinion) as you may know, I was on holiday and after several plan adjustments I ended up in Paris in a hotel lacking in wifi and free time. I go back to school in just under two weeks so ill try to keep updates as regular a possible, please don't give up on this story, I don't plan on giving up on it any time soon.**

**As always, review, follow, favourite. Let me know what you think is going on...**

**prettytwistedG **


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